


Found

by Vadianna



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vadianna/pseuds/Vadianna
Summary: Basically,Dark Discipledoesn't exist, and Asajj Ventress is a bounty hunter that gets hired by and works almost exclusively with Rae Sloane.  This takes place duringAftermath: Life Debt.Sloane hasn't seen Ventress since the Battle of Yavin, nearly two years before.  Ventress tracks down theRavagerand both find out the other is still alive.  We find out that Rae Sloane likes to give orders, and Ventress listens to them with varying degrees of accuracy.





	

The meeting with Rax had left her uneasy, but not much eased her mind lately. She tried to steady herself as she walked the halls of the _Ravager._ Nothing would happen to her before she went to Hanna City, at any rate. She was the face of the Empire. Rax wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ eliminate her. Not yet.

She took a breath, tried to relax her shoulders, loosen herself before she reached her quarters. She couldn’t keep jumping at shadows. She would run out of energy before her enemies emerged from them.

Which was when she found herself slammed against the wall of her private hallway, face pressed painfully into the cool durasteel, arms twisted up behind her back. She struggled by reflex, tried to reach for her blaster, tried to kick off against the wall. _No_ , she thought, _Rax wouldn’t do this, it isn’t his style, it’s not_ showy _enough.._.

She couldn’t struggle, couldn’t kick or move her arms or twist her neck away from the cool durasteel against her cheek.

And then she knew _Not Rax._

“Rae,” a harsh voice whispered against her ear, out of her line of sight. Sloane couldn’t feel her presence, but she never had.

“Ventress.” She grit her teeth in the parody of a smile. “I was wondering when you’d come back. Did you use the hallways, or did you crawl through the ducts like a maintenance droid?”

Sloane waited one beat, two, for Ventress’s anger to register, felt the Force ripple over her skin hot and overpowering as she was turned and her back slammed against the door to her quarters. A beat later, it opened behind her, depositing her on the floor of her darkened rooms. Ventress took a step into the doorway over her. Framed by the light of the hallway, Sloane couldn’t make out more than her silhouette. Her legs were concealed underneath a skirt, but the rest of her was as thin, and severe as always.

When Sloane tried to pull herself up to sitting, she felt the Force clamp down on her wrists, and she was forced back to the floor. The door closed behind Ventress, and the lights in her quarters brightened to twenty percent as the motion sensors picked up on activity in the room. Sloane wondered if they sensed Ventress at all, or only her. The light revealed Ventress, in all her wayward bounty hunter glory, the corners of her eyes giving the barest hint of fury. Sloane wondered why.

Ventress put a heavy boot on her chest, and Sloane pulled her lip up reflexively at the print it would leave on the front of her white uniform. She felt Ventress’s slight weight bear into her as Ventress leaned down onto her chest and brought her face low to offer a sneer of her own.

Asajj Ventress had a way of expressing displeasure that few could manage. Her entire face twisted into the emotion, her blue eyes narrowed and grew colder, and you couldn’t help but hate her back. It was as if she felt hatred more than other being, and perhaps she did - so much more that she gave some of it to you in the effort of conveying it.

When they had been younger, Ventress had possessed the lines bracketing her eyes and mouth that cut deep whenever she was unhappy. They had lengthened and deepened with age, only making her look more angry.

“Mercurial Swift,” she spat, nearly literally, into Sloane’s face.

Ah. That. Sloane made her own face hard. “The bounty hunter. A mutual acquaintance, I take it?”

Sloane felt the boot grind harder into her chest, still not painful through the layers of her uniform. “He is a fool, a grandstanding koorkock, a braggart, and you _hired him. Three times.”_

Sloane jerked her wrists against the Force hold, tried to twist her head to the side, but could not. Ultimately, she could do little more than hold Ventress’s stare. “And who would you have suggested I hire?”

The anger abruptly left Ventress’s face like a passing storm, leaving no trace. Her eyes wandered up from Sloane’s face, and she crossed one arm over her knee as she reached down and snapped the tie holding Sloane’s long hair back with a finger. She grabbed a lock and pulled it around, working it across her fingers in front of Sloane’s face, staring intently at it.

“For as large as it is, the _Ravager_  is a difficult ship to find, Grand Admiral.”

And then, at the perfect devastating moment, Ventress’s eyes met Sloane’s. Ventress had painted her eyes, thick lines underneath and long wings to the sides. Sloane flexed her jaw imperceptibly, then forced herself to relax. She was careful to keep the expression off her face, kept the pang of guilt and the embarrassment crushed low. Neither of them would appreciate such thoughts right now.

“Now I know you really can find anything.”

Ventress let out a sound of frustration as she dropped Sloane’s hair and reared backward several steps. Sloane felt the hooks in her collar pop and a tearing sound as the front panel of her uniform was peeled back with Ventress’s invisible Force. She felt the pressure release from her body and Sloane sat up, scowling, her hand coming up to hold the front panel in place.

“You may not realize this, but resources are scarce right now. I don’t have a lot of spare uniforms.”

It had been a long time since Ventress had been aboard her ship, and Sloane couldn’t tell if she was still venting anger or was eager to move along. In either case, Sloane’s annoyance was genuine, and this gesture was more impertinent and disrespectful than she was willing to tolerate from even Ventress.

Ventress had her thin arms crossed in front of her chest, eyeing Sloane wearily up and down. Sloane returned the favor, letting her gaze travel boldly over the woman. Her head was bald, as it had been since Sloane expressed a preference for it many years ago. Age had darkened her complexion to slate gray, more pronounced since the last time Sloane had seen her. She wore ridiculous black gloves that went up to her biceps, and a high-collared sleeveless tunic that fit her tightly and was tucked into a wide light gray belt that appeared to serve no purpose - she had wisely not brought her weapons to Sloane. She had only done that once.

Sloane’s gaze moved down to briefly assess the thick floor-length black skirt, then went back up to Ventress's hips, considering the belt again.

“Asajj,” she taunted, standing and stepping forward. “Still using the belt for more than appearances?”

Sloane was rewarded with another contortion of Ventress’s face into rage as one of Sloane's hands went to her waist and the other clamped over the nearly nonexistent curve of her ass through the skirt.

“We can’t all look good in suspenders, Grand Admiral,” she retorted, her hand dipping into the panel of Sloane’s uniform and snapping the strap against Sloane’s skin. Sloane fought to school her features to neutrality, to not show the thrill of the sting.

“A shame. I think you’d like them.”

Ventress’s expression smoothed into something more calculating, and her hand went back up to caress another lock of Sloane’s hair, pulling it forward. It was gray. “You’re getting old.”

“We both are. A little more every year.”

Keeping her expression neutral, she lightly slapped Ventress’s hand away, then slapped her face harder, hard enough to sting her palm through the glove, the noise ringing loudly through the room. Ventress’s eyes narrowed as her cheek bloomed purple.

Sloane adjusted her gaze down, and trailed the backs of her fingers up the front of Ventress’s throat, over her high collar, and just under her chin. She pinched her chin between her index and thumb, and jerked her head up. Sloane was half a head taller than Ventress, and enjoyed the height advantage immensely.

She let herself smirk. It was an act of disrespect, something to get their game started. Sloane knew what Ventress wanted. In a galaxy where nearly every being was terrified of the name Asajj Ventress, she wanted someone who was fearless.  Someone who could give her orders.

Rae Sloane prided herself on that skill.  And it was a thrill to have someone as powerful as Asajj, one of the most deadly beings alive, brought to order simply by a sharp word from Sloane.  The power over one such as Ventress was heady, and something that never lost its thrill for Sloane.

“Have you been lonely all this time, Asajj? Too many long cycles spent keeping yourself pleasured? Hands running over those hips and thighs, desperate to make them into someone else? Come.” Sloane took a step back, and held her hands up imperiously between them. “Take off my gloves.”

Ventress looked at her warily for just a moment before her hand shot out, gripping Sloane around the wrist uncomfortably tight. Ventress took a step forward, considered Sloane’s hand for a moment, then bent and took the hem of the glove with her teeth, pulling it up and off of Sloane’s hand slowly, turning it inside out over her fingers before dropping it on the floor. She ran her tongue up Sloane’s palm and along her middle finger before Sloane could snatch her hand back, Ventress stepping back before Sloane could react. After a severe look from Sloane, Ventress took her other wrist, more gently this time, and stripped the glove off the same way, laying a kiss in Sloane’s palm this time, catching Sloane off-guard.

“Good,” Sloane offered. “For you, anyway. I see you still don’t remember how to follow orders.”

“Oh? What order didn’t I follow?” Ventress purred, her voice more rough and sensual than Sloane could remember, her expression twisting into something positively evil.

“The implicit order of respect, bounty hunter. Take off your own gloves the same way.”

Ventress gave her another coy look, then gripped the hem of one of her gloves, around her bicep, between her teeth. She pulled her elbow in, and managed to turn the glove inside out, exposing her palm. She held it out to Sloane, who glanced dismissively at it. “The other one, too.”

After Ventress had silently complied, Sloane stepped forward. “Good. Well done.” Sloane took Ventress by the wrist, pulling her palm up to her mouth. She laid a kiss in it, the callouses of Ventress's palms rough against Sloane’s lips. They were scented slightly, Sloane wondered what soap she had used. She closed her eyes and kissed her palm one more time, then took a step back.

“Undress me. Properly, this time.”

Sloane held her arms out expectantly. Ventress cocked her head to the side, bringing one hand up to cover her mouth speculatively. Without warning, she threw it out, and Sloane heard the sound of the thick fabric parting down the center of her body. She sighed, looking down. Her belt lay in two pieces on the floor, along with her tunic and undershirt. Her pants hung limply from the top of her boots in four pieces, suspenders and all.

Well, at least she hadn’t ruined the boots. Those were so hard to get fitted properly.

She looked back up at Ventress, expression carefully neutral.

“My apologies, Grand Admiral. I seem to have temporarily lost control of my powers.” Insolent, unapologetic. Part of the game.

Sloane bent down to pull the remnants of her pants out of her tall boots. She could feel her hair shift across her shoulders, could see it falling to either side, swinging in the corner of her vision. It blocked her view of Ventress, but Sloane knew Ventress was getting an eyeful, that she was putting on a show.

She put an end to that by rapidly stepping behind Ventress and delivering a sharp kick to the back of her leg. Ventress hit the floor hard on her knees, falling forward to steady herself with her palms. Sometimes a risk, but this was normally what Ventress wanted, what she needed from Sloane. If it wasn’t desired, Ventress was much faster than she was, and could easily avoid her blows. It was how they played. Sloane could see the hard black heeled soles of Ventress’s boots underneath her skirt, and slowly walked around as Ventress straightened herself, still on her knees.

She looked stoically up at Sloane, and as Sloane considered her, she slapped her face again, harder this time, on the other side. The skin against skin sound of it rang even louder in the room, and her other cheek bloomed purple. Ventress didn’t blush - Sloane wasn’t sure if she just didn’t, or if Dathomiri couldn’t - but strikes brought color up to her skin in a lovely approximation of one. It was always one of the first things she did. She caressed the cheek then, feeling the warmth of the slap against the smooth skin as Ventress looked up at her with predator’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t know about losing control. Take off your shirt.”

Ventress closed her eyes and complied, pulling her thin tunic up over her head. She wore no brassiere underneath - another quirk of Dathomiri genetics, her breasts were much firmer than humans, a different texture entirely that didn’t require one. Sloane crouched, eyes on the dark purple nipples, and she stroked one idly with a thumb. It peaked under her touch. Sloane knew she could do better. She looked back up into Ventress’s face.

“All those months stroking yourself between those narrow thighs, pinching these hard breasts.” She gave Ventress’s nipple a tweak for emphasis, and raised her eyebrows. “Come to the bed. I want you to give me a massage.”

Unexpectedly, Ventress lunged forward, knocking Sloane first onto her ass, then her back. Ventress loomed over her, knees on either side of her hips, a hand by her ear. She lowered her face an inch from Sloane’s, then moved her head to the side.

“Decadent.” Ventress breathed into Sloane’s ear, stretching the word out, the gravelly sound of her voice making it sound much more sinful. Sloane could feel the pad of an index finger stroke the base of her throat, then turn as the edge of Ventress’s nail began cutting painfully into her skin, dragging down her chest, between her breasts, passing over her bra and down to her navel. Sloane could feel the first tingling of arousal, the warmth spreading from the sharp prick of Ventress’s nail on her chest.

“I see that high ranking officers are still as pampered and corrupt as ever.”

Sloane’s hands shot to Ventress’s waist, gripping her hard, feeling the sharp points of her hips pressing into her palm, the muscles grinding under her grip. She let her face contort in rage for just a moment before sliding back into impassivity. “Call me pampered again.”

Ventress smirked, rolled her hips, and sat back on her knees, into Sloane’s lap. “Would you like oil with your massage, Grand Admiral?”

Sloane sat up and pushed at Ventress until she slid off, then stood and walked to the bedroom. When the lights came up automatically, she slammed her palm into the panel to plunge the room into darkness, wanting only the ambient light from the front room with them. She retrieved a bottle of oil from the nightstand, and threw it at Ventress, not bothering to watch her levitate it in the air in front of her before removing her boots and socks and laying facedown on the mattress, her chin resting on her hands.

“Start with my shoulders.”

Sloane felt the mattress press down as Ventress climbed into the bed. She ran a finger along the back of Sloane’s brassiere, black bith lace with five hooks up the back and braided straps. Sloane could feel the fine threads catching against the rough skin of Ventress’s palm. She smiled to herself. She loved her underwear. She made Adea special order it for her.

Delicately, Ventress unhooked the back and pulled the straps away from Sloane’s back. Sloane sighed as the pressure released from around her ribcage, replaced with annoyance when the cold oil drizzled between her shoulderblades. She rolled her head to the side, attempting to glare with annoyance behind her back.

“Warm it first, witch. I know you’re capable.”

She heard a low _hmmmm_ of agreement as Ventress spread her hand in the oil, and Sloane felt a low warmth radiate from her palm. Sloane felt muscles she didn’t know were tense loosen in her back as Ventress worked her magic, literally and figuratively, her fingers knowing just what pressure to apply to her shoulders, the base of her neck, the knotted muscles down her spine. Sloane could feel her kneading flesh and muscle, reapplying oil and rubbing it generously into her skin. Heat spread from her palms as she moved around Sloane’s body, and Sloane felt herself melting into the touch, her muscles relaxing, her tension disappearing.

Her underwear were black lace shorts that matched her brassiere, and she shifted slightly as she felt Ventress hook her fingers delicately into the waist and pull them down to her knees. Carefully, almost reverently, if Ventress could be said to do anything thus, she ran her thumbs from the base of Sloane’s thighs to the peak of her ass, working oil into the crease, pulling it open. Sloane hissed when she felt Ventress’s thumb probing gently at the rim of her ass, then pushing up to the base of her spine. The thumb was ice cold, in contrast to the heat spreading from the palm on her hip.

She kicked out weakly, not making contact, looking languidly over her shoulder. “Stop that.”

Ventress gave her an arch look in return. “Stop what, Grand Admiral? Something you don’t like?”

“Witches.” Sloane scowled and settled her chin back on her hands.

She could hear Ventress huff and the mattress creak as she adjusted her position. Slowly, she worked her way down Sloane’s thighs, her touch now not so much a massage as a caress. Sloane felt the sensation of Ventress’s lips at the juncture of her thigh and ass, moving slowly in the wake of her thumbs, kissing gently at the ample inside of her thighs. When she nipped lightly at the inside of Sloane’s left knee, Sloane shifted free of her grip and rolled onto her back.

“The front now, bounty hunter.”

Ventress’s gaze lingered on her pubic mound. Sloane didn’t bother shaving, and Ventress didn’t grow hair there. She looked amazed by it every time. Ventress’s eyes stayed locked on it as she used one hand to gently slide Sloane’s thin undershorts completely off, discarding them on the floor.

Her eyes moved up slightly, and her fingers went to Sloane’s navel, where she pooled oil (warm this time - she must have warmed the bottle) and watched as it ran down Sloane’s sides. She caught the trail on one side with her thumb, and stroked it up and down, from ribs to hip, pressing her fingers into the soft flesh of her side.

Sloane had gained more flesh with age, both more muscle and more fat concealing it. She was stocky, but her stature had never bothered her, least of all now, when Asajj Ventress worshipped at the altar of her body. Ventress pushed and pulled at her stomach and sides, her facial expressions becoming less calculated and more openly aroused. Watching Ventress forget to control her face was nearly as good as the massage itself.

Sloane watched Ventress's face silently as her fingertips brushed under the wire of her brassiere, and Sloane shrugged out of it as Ventress pulled it delicately away, her face growing more openly covetous when her breasts were uncovered. She cupped one in a rough palm, caressing the nipple and watching in wonder as it pinched in and peaked. She cupped the other and tongued delicately, eventually sucking greedily, first one side, then the other.

Sloane’s breath quickened under the attention, the unnatural warmth radiating from Ventress’s palms an exquisite compliment to her teasing Sloane’s very sensitive nipples. She made no sounds, not yet, but she could not help the heat that rushed through her, the small gasp as she felt Ventress’s teeth close, just this side of painful.

As she was biting down, her thumb and forefinger closed over the other nipple, and Sloane felt the freezing touch of her fingertips. For that, she did groan aloud, closing her eyes and wrenching involuntarily under Ventress.

Reprimand was second nature to her, and she opened her mouth to do so, but Ventress anticipated it and clamped a hand over Sloane's mouth. She made eye contact before switching her mouth to the cold nipple, her tongue soothing the chill.

Sloane pushed her palm into the smooth skin on top of Ventress’s head, pushing her away, and Ventress moved both hands down to Sloane’s hips, very hot now, sweat springing up below her touch, slicking her skin along with the oil.

“Finish your massage,” she ordered, in a voice far more level than she thought she could presently manage. The habit of command fitted her well.

Ventress smirked, and continued to rub oil into her skin, from her collarbones, over her biceps, pulling on each of her fingers, then sucking the oil off. Sloane loved it, but she was becoming overheated, sweat now standing out on her temples, her arms, wherever Ventress touched her. She tried to keep the flush off her face as she stared dispassionately.

Ventress responded to her indifference by moving down and gripping one foot in both hands, digging her thumbs exquisitely into the sole. She took the ankle in one hand and drug a fingertip up the length, and not even Sloane’s iron resolve could keep her from trying to yank the foot out of Ventress’s grip.

“Weakness, Grand Admiral? You aren’t ticklish, are you?”

Sloane grit her teeth against the sensation as she tried to pull her foot again, but Ventress wouldn’t relinquish her grip. Instead, she ran her tongue up the sole, and she felt the sensation rush straight up her leg and light up her whole body. Sloane grunted in frustration, bending her knee and planting her other foot on the bed while trying to kick Ventress away.

Ventress only looked satisfied as she exercised her strength, grabbing Sloane’s other foot with her free hand and licking that as well. Sloane fought harder, grunting and trying to hold in her reaction as she struggled to sit up.

Ventress showed mercy as she worked her tongue up to Sloane’s toes. Sloane shuddered at the thought of Ventress’s mouth on her foot as she ran her tongue between them, sucking intermittently.

Sloane decided she couldn’t take much more. “If you’re done wasting time, I think you know where to finish, correct?”

Ventress smirked again, shifting and passing a hand lightly up Sloane’s leg, then bringing both to her stomach, pressing her thumbs into Sloane’s navel and trailing them down into the patch of pubic hair. Sloane spread her legs slightly as Ventress shifted down, gripping a thigh in one hand and passing a speculative thumb over Sloane’s clit, a moderate warmth in her fingertips.

Sloane rolled her hips in appreciation, and Ventress parted her inner labia and slid her index finger in, working both thumb and finger. After a moment, she bent down and replaced her thumb with her tongue, moving her hand onto Sloane’s other thigh.

She could feel Ventress’s nose in her pubic hair, the hot press of her tongue on her clit and labia, her slippery grip on her thighs. It had been a long time, and Sloane had missed her. She let Ventress hear her moans of pleasure, writhed and displayed the thrill openly. It didn’t take long for Ventress to bring Sloane to orgasm, Sloane sitting up and gripping Ventress’s shoulders, pressing oiled thumbs into the sweat-damp skin over Ventress’s collarbone as she tried to bring her breathing back under control.

“Good. So good, Asajj.” Sloane gripped the sides of her neck, bringing up one hand to stroke a thumb above one of Ventress’s eyes, where an eyebrow would be on a human. She cupped the smooth back of Ventress’s head in one damp palm, and brought her forward into a punishing kiss.

Their kisses were brutal things, much like their whole relationship. Teeth tore at lips, Sloane tasted blood that Ventress licked from her mouth. Each tried harder to pull the other one in, as if one would physically break first. Sloane could feel their breaths mingling, inhaling as Ventress exhaled. She pulled Ventress fully in her lap, letting their thighs slide together, and Ventress pulled away from her mouth, trailing her lips across Sloane’s cheek and to her ear.

“I couldn’t find you,” exhaled so softly that Sloane thought she might have imagined it.

Sloane closed her eyes. She hadn’t seen Ventress since before the Battle of Endor, nearly two years ago. They didn’t have each other’s comm frequency. It wasn’t how their relationship worked. Asajj simply found her way back to Sloane, and Sloane always had work for her that Asajj completed perfectly. Their professional and private partnership had always worked well, both liking their space and respecting boundaries.

But two years. Everything had been so chaotic, there had been so much going on, so much fighting. And Ventress hadn’t come back.

Sloane nosed at her ear, wanting to say it aloud. “I thought you were dead.”

Without opening her eyes, she gripped the back of Ventress’s head and pressed their damp foreheads together, then gave her a gentle kiss, bringing their lips together in barely a touch. It wasn’t something they did. But Sloane had wanted it, for those years she thought Ventress dead.

She opened her eyes, and they shared a look for a moment before Sloane put her palms more firmly on Ventress’s shoulders, giving her a harder, more appraising look. This was more comfortable territory - Sloane giving orders, and Ventress taking orders only from Sloane, sometimes begrudgingly. Ventress, for reasons that were never clear to Sloane, also liked being treated poorly. Sloane obliged her, as she found the witch’s rages quite enthralling.

“You weren’t here. I had to hire Swift, since _he_ was able to find the last Super Star Destroyer in the Imperial fleet. One wouldn’t think finding a ship so large would be a challenge, but here we are.”

Hurt flashed across Ventress’s face for a moment before she suppressed it. Sloane tweaked her nipple in apology, and without breaking character, before going on to say the thing she knew would set Ventress off.

“I’m glad he was working with me. He saved my life in Coruscant recently, pulled me from a thorough beating by a street gang. I’m lucky he was there for me.”

Ventress’s face transformed into a look of rage, and Sloane pushed her off her lap, backwards onto the bed.

“Normally I can fight my own battles, but the situation there has really deteriorated. Took me by surprise. I won’t be traveling there alone anytime soon. I’ll probably hire Swift again for that detail, since he did such a good job.”

She pressed her palm between Ventress’s breasts to feel the vibration of the growl that Ventress was letting through her bared teeth.

“That fucking useless _dancer_ ,” Ventress spat. “Of course he helped you run away from a fight. It’s what he’s good at.”

Sloane kept her eyes on Ventress’s enraged face, sliding down and setting her teeth into one of Ventress’s nipples. She teased it with her tongue, getting it to peak firmly before teasing it with a thumb again, and shifting to the other, breathing onto it.

“I was pleased to see him, and in my weakened state, I found myself… growing somewhat closer to him.”

She could feel Ventress’s jealousy like a palpable thing, a heat that washed over her own skin. She closed her eyes to savor it, the calm before the storm.

Ventress sat up and threw Sloane against the mattress, pinning her shoulders, her anger twisting her features into the hateful mask that Sloane adored. A hand came up to grip her hair, yanking hard against her scalp.

“Did he touch you?”

Sloane cocked her head. “You know the business, Asajj. Everything’s confidential between bounty hunters and employers.”

She felt another tug at her scalp, more painful, and Ventress’s palm heating against her shoulder to a painful burn. Sloane hoped she would leave a mark.

“Did he touch you, Rae?”

Sloane let a smirk quirk the corner of her mouth before she slithered out of Ventress’s grip, throwing her on her back in turn. Ventress still had a grip on her hair, though she relaxed it as Sloane positioned herself between Ventress’s legs, allowing the length of Sloane’s hair to play out between her fingers.

Ventress was still wearing her skirt and boots. The skirt had rucked up around her knees. As Sloane knelt and sat back on her heels, Ventress landed a kick with the sharp heel of her boot against her shoulder. Sloane responded calmly by clamping Ventress’s knee in a firm grip.

“You want to know if he touched me here?” She reached under the skirt and grabbed the backs of Ventress’s thin thighs, her fingers reaching nearly all the way around, and positioned Ventress’s knees around her shoulders, pulling the skirt back to Ventress’s waist. She undid the belt with one hand, tossing it aside and positioning one hand on her hip and parting her labia with the other underneath the pile of her skirt. Her gaze flicked down to her smooth pubic mound, then back up to her face. “Or here?” She slipped a finger inside, pressing ungently forward. Ventress was slick with arousal, and Sloane used a second finger and applied more pressure.

“Did Mercurial Swift do this to me?” She fucked Ventress roughly with her fingers, and Ventress bucked against them, eyes finally closing in begrudging, stubborn arousal, expression easing from rage to a concentrated, angry kind of pleasure.

She flexed her body, pulling Sloane forward with her calves and knees. Sloane flexed back against her knees, dragging Ventress’s body further back with her own weight. She shoved her hand in hard and tweaked her clit with a thumb, and Ventress peaked, flexing onto her fingers, her legs crushing Sloane’s back and shoulders with the force of it.

Sloane looked at her mildly as she relaxed against the sheets, gasping for breath. When Ventress’s eyes cracked open, Sloane began sucking on the fingers she’d used to make Ventress come. Tears had leaked from the corner of Ventress’s eyes during the climax, smearing the eye makeup that she’d applied. Sloane leaned forward to smudge it further with her thumb, then bent down to suck a bright purple bruise just below one of her breasts.

She tongued the bruise in consideration, biting hard enough to taste blood and lap at it. Humor bubbled to the forefront of her thoughts. She loved the absurdity of stirring Ventress’s considerable jealousy by alluding to male partners that didn’t exist. Ventress was much more likely to have sex with Mercurial Swift than she was, as she’d allegedly had male partners in the past.

Sloane pulled the skirt back down to Ventress’s ankles. She studied the fabric, then sat up slightly to stroke a hand down the firm plane of Ventress’s abdomen, running a finger appreciatively over the new bite, then reached up to grip her bicep, spanning her arm with one hand. She rolled Ventress on her side and laid down behind her, keeping her grip on her arm, eyes closed, face pressed into the skin on the back of Ventress’s head.

“I wish you’d come sooner. I would have sent you to retrieve Hux and his son. You would have put fear into him, and I want him afraid.”

Ventress rolled to face her and gave her an arch look. “Who is he, and where would I be retrieving him from?”

Sloane _hmmm_ ed in consideration, running a finger around an ear. “Arkanis. Currently a war zone, a territory being taken by the Rebellion, but doable. He’s an old schoolteacher that Rax wants for his-” Sloane made a face, “His _Shadow Council_.”

The humor fled Ventress’s face. “Rax is a monster. Get rid of him immediately.”

Sloane rolled onto her back. “Asajj.”

“I’ll do it for you. Right now. He’s here, isn’t he?”

“You can’t kill him.”

“I think I can.” Sloane felt Ventress tense up next to her. She put a hand out to stop her, and another over her eyes.

“Don’t kill him because you don’t like him.”

“You don’t like him either.”

Sloane sighed, and pulled her hand away from her eyes. “I’m keeping an eye on him. I know he’s not playing straight. I don’t know what he has in mind. I’ve got Adea watching him.”

She felt Ventress tense again. “Your little pet.”

Sloane did not suppress her smile. That was legitimate. She teased Adea far too frequently. She rolled back over.

“My little pet,” she agreed. As an appeasement, she moved to the end of the bed and gripped Ventress by her ankles, admiring the fury that played across her face as she fisted the bedsheets. And in an entirely selfish act, she burrowed herself under Ventress’s skirt, pulling her forward, struggling, on the sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr - [@vadianna](http://vadianna.tumblr.com).


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